American Cinematographer - July 1989 - 68

later he rounded up

Eastman in his

nine friends to
join him in giving $50,000 to the
same
struggling school. He pre¬
sented the plans and financial back¬
ing to the city of Rochester for a $2.5

workshop in
the early
1920s.

million dental clinic, and later gave
dental clinics to London, Paris,

he

simply side-stepped it, like a tore¬
ador, and actually touched its side
it passed
The rhino, growing
momentarily more enraged, whirled
to make a second charge when Phil¬
lip Percival's gun brought him
as

.

established

ported

and

In

sup¬

the

Eastman-Rochester
including its famed
symphony orchestra and theater.
The Medical School and Hospital of
the University of Rochester resulted
from his planning, and in 1924 he
gave $30 million to the University
of Rochester, M. I. T., Hampton In¬
stitute and Tuskegee Institute.
Most of Eastman's life, day
and night, was devoted to work. In
his later years he tried to catch up
on the other things he enjoyed, such
as gardening, travel, hunting and
fishing, art and music appreciation.
He backed the establishing of a
headquarters for Martin and Osa
Johnson's African movie expeditions
School of Music,

val to

8mm and

9.5mm

16mm

was

the

format

championed by
Pathe, which enjoyed a vogue in
pre-World War II Europe.
These

were

but

a

few of the

photographic innovations in which
George Eastman took a hand during
his lifetime. He also set many oth¬
ers in motion, to be realized by his
successors.

the

Eastman also pioneered in
establishment of benevolent

employer-employee relations at

a

time when harsh treatment of work¬

the norm. He often expressed
opinion that the prosperity of his
company was due more to the loy¬
alty and good will of the workers
than to its inventions and patents. In
1898 he distributed a large part of
his personal fortune to his employ¬
ees as an outright gift. Later, he set
up a welfare fund and more than 75
years ago he initiated an innovative
wage dividend system via which
each employee was paid above his
wages in proportion to the yearly
dividend on the company stock.

-

and in 1926 and '27 spent

considerable time there as as camp
cook and baker. Osa Johnson de¬
scribed a harrowing incident in her

ers was

book, "I Married Adventure" (Lip-

the

pincott, 1940):

In

third of his

1919, Eastman gave one-

holdings of

own

com¬

pany stock, then worth $10 million,
to his employees. Nine years later he
established a retirement annuity, life
insurance and

disability benefit plan,
many years before such employee
advantages were practiced.
One year the Massa¬
chusetts Institute of Technology re¬
ceived a large financial gift from one
"Mr. Smith"
it eventually added
up to $20 million. The mysterious
donor became the hero of a popular
campus song and his identity was a
subject of speculation for years be¬
fore it became quietly known that he
was George Eastman. He had always
-

had

a

man

making $60

charitable bent. As

a

a

young

week he contrib¬

uted $50 to the new Mechanics In¬
stitute of Rochester, and a few years

10a

in 1924

100

-

Year Start

on

Tomorrow

one

"On our fourth day out to
of the blinds, I had a fright

which I didn't
Eastman

was

in the then

get over. Mr.
much interested

soon

very

new

16mm Cinex

cam¬

which he had

recently developed
and carried everywhere with him.
Rounding a clump of thorn bush, we
era

came on an

old rhino. He

was

graz¬

ing with that smug air of disdain for
the rest of the world which these

.

down."

Rome, Brussels and Stockholm.
He

.

man

a

letter from Africa, East¬
now about four

"It is

wrote:

months since

Pomeroy, Stewart and
country bent upon
a big game
hunting and photograph¬
ing adventure. Since then we have
I arrived in this

traveled
tor

car,

4,000 miles with mo¬
camel, and porter safaris

over

without serious

mishap or even dis¬
comfort. Whether the thrills derived
from successful accomplishment of
what we set out to do have counter¬
balanced the dangers incurred is for
each member of the party to decide
for himself. Whether anybody is jus¬
tified in killing a lot of wild animals
(mostly harmless) just for the pleas¬
of taking home so-called 'tro¬
phies' to show his friends and brag¬
ging (inferentially at least) of his
prowess as a hunter is, of course, a
matter that is open to the opinion
ure

of the onlookers.
"But from whatever view¬

point it is looked at, from that of the
sportsman or that of the sentimen¬
talist, the fact remains that this ad¬
venturer with his mind filled with

memories of many new

things he
experienced, now at the
end, as always, is turning his face
eagerly homeward, to a place where
has

seen

there is

and

an

abundance of pure wa¬

ter, where the great
inhabitants are not

majority of the
hopelessly and
unspeakably filthy, where the mos¬
quitoes are not allowed to spread

peculiar animals have, when sud¬
denly he became aware of us. We
had no way of knowing what Mr.

disease, where the roads are smooth
and the streets clean, where the four

Eastman would do under the circum¬

ous

and were completely unpre¬
pared when he started toward the
animal, taking pictures with his little

and unlimited

stances

as he went. As a matter of
fact he walked right up to within 20

seasons

follow each other in

glori¬

sequence, where there is music,
art and science, and boundless scope

opportunity for the
development of all that is admirable

camera

in man,

yards of the ugly beast. We stood
completely frozen, meantime.
"Suddenly the big beast

hopes to enjoy the priceless privilege
of a few more years of contact with
the friends whom he has gathered
about him during the course of a
long, interesting and eventful life."

decided

snorted,

to

resent

lowered

Mr.

his

Eastman,
head and

"Never

have

I

seen

a

greater exhibition of coolness than
Mr. Eastman

now

displayed. Instead

turning and running, which

one

Eastman ended that life in
its 78th year,

charged.

of

and above all where he

any¬

else would have done, he stood

quietly, still facing the animal and
then when, snorting and ferocious,
it was within perhaps 15 feet of him,

1932. He had never
married and lived alone, except for
servants, in the mansion he had de¬

signed in 1905. He had given away
his entire personal fortune, amount¬
ing to some $100 million, and left
his entire residual estate to the Uni¬

versity of Rochester. He also left
note: My work is done. Why wait?

a
American Cinematographer - July 1989

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